Strings
by Skull Keeta
Summary: They will know the joy of creation.


_**Come little children... I'll take thee away... into a land of enchantment...**_

You feel helpless without them, without the strings. Like a cat without it's claws, you are forced to live without something that was apart of you. Until, you find that the strings are still there, existing in your mind. You can feel them reach out, stretching until you feel the hooks dig into a vessel. The vessel springs to life, it's eyes light up and pierce the darkness, illuminating it's face in the dark blue of it's irises.

Your strings had always held you up when your thin, spindly legs never could. The first time you had tried to walk, you fell to the floor, the thin points at the end of your legs not enough to support your tall frame. It felt like you had spent your entire life flying, only for your wings to fade away and leave you crashing back to Earth. But a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, and suddenly you are free to move on your own. No longer confined to the shadows of your music box.

And so you float through the halls like a phantom, sticking to the darkness as to not be seen. You remember when you were afraid of the dark, of what types of monsters lurk unseen, waiting for the right moment to strike. But now _you_ are the monster, the very thing of children's nightmares. You find no humor in the irony.

 _ **"Follow sweet children... I'll show thee the way... Through all the pain and the sorrows..."**_

As you slink through the empty corridors, you hear something. A funny sort of wheezing sound, wet and gurgling. You are suddenly overcome with deja vu, and a memory fills your head.

 _You are holding your mommy's hand, dragging her along as you bull doze your way through the crowd. She was taking you to Fredbear's Family Diner for a friend's birthday. You were so excited to see the fuzzy robots perform, singing and clapping along with them in tandem. As you get inside, you realize you have to go to the bathroom. As your mommy gets up to come with you, you ask her to stay, because you are a big kid now and don't need her to help you._

The memory is so vivid; if you still had a heart, it would be beating a million miles an hour. You observe, helpless as you leave the safety and comfort of your mother, attempting to savor the feeling of her hand holding yours, a feeling you will likely never feel again. You feel the overwhelming need to scream at the memory, tell it to turn around, run back to its mother, fall unconscious, anything to stop what you knew was about to happen. However, you are frozen, unable to move or speak or even think clearly as the memory sucks you back in.

 _As you turn into a deserted hallway, you realize you are lost. You start to cry and yell for your mommy, as the walls seem to close in on you, the sounds of screaming and laughter from the party room no longer audible. You see a door at the end of the hallway, and run to open it, hoping it leads you back to her. You are momentarily blinded as you open the door, surprised by the bright sunlight._

 _It happened so fast, too fast to even remember clearly. A car pulls up beside you and a man slithers out, like a snake stalking it's prey. You are filled with dread as he approaches you, and before you can turn to run, he pounces. Your screams are cut off prematurely as an explosion of pain consumes your stomach. You look down and see red blood stain your clothes, clothes your mother had specially picked out for the party. You cough and wheeze as your vision starts to fade, and you dimly see the man raising his weapon over his head. Purple is the last thing you ever see with human eyes._

 _ **"Weep not poor children... For life is this way... Murdering beauty and passion..."**_

You force yourself out of the memory. If you had any need for breath, you would be gasping for it. Another noise distracts you, a gurgling cough. You now realize with a start exactly what it is.

A human child.

Not just any human child, however. One that is on the brink of expiring; breaking, ready to shatter like glass. You glide out of your music box to investigate the sound. The sight that greets you isn't exactly shocking, but it still rattles you like nothing you've felt before.

It won't be long now. The human child's breaths are shortening, coughs racking it's small form. It's eyes meet yours, and you recognize the look in it's eyes; fear. Not just fear of death, but fear of you. You realize that it must be a terrifying sight, a marionette with no strings to hold it, permanently wearing an expression of morbid joy.

You look down and see the knife sticking out from the human child's stomach. Although your expression is frozen in glee, you are overtaken with seething rage at the unfairness of it all. Had this child been looking for its mother as well? Was it crying in fear like you had been? Was its killer the last thing it saw?

You attempt to control yourself. What's done is done.

You take the child's hand, attempting to transfer the warmth and safeness you had felt when your mother held yours. However, you are just a puppet without it's strings; you might as well be made entirely of ice.

You watch as the light leaves its eyes. For the first time in your new life, you feel like the child you used to be, completely helpless to do anything. You feel your strings reach out from the depths of your mind in desperation, the hooks reaching out wildly for a vessel. At last, they sink into a furry surface, and you feel a surge of power as the husk springs to life. It is perfect. You feel as though a spirit of vengeance has possessed you, doing whatever it takes to deny this murderer his pleasure.

 **You will not take another life as you took mine.**

The suit now has an appropriate host. The eyes no longer glow with false light, but with life. The suit moves now with purpose, and a certain sturdiness it did not posses before. However, it is different from you. It does not speak, it barely acknowledges your presence when you attempt to communicate. It sits completely still, like a statue, it's eyes always staring into nothing.

As you watch the vessel glare into the dark from it's place on the show stage, you can't shake the feeling that you've done something horribly wrong.

 _ **"Come little children... The time's come to play... Here in my garden of shadow..."**_

* * *

 _That's it. The song title used is "Come Little Children."_


End file.
